translating_wizard
patreon
Chapter 1175: The Successor
🕑 Added 2024-07-17 11:51:32 +0000 UTCAccording to Fudge, the situation was developing in the worst possible direction, yet he was still telling the Prime Minister not to worry.
The Prime Minister wondered what this portly man in front of him had in his head, was it paste?
Because of a madman whose name could not even be mentioned, his country and people were facing a great threat, and he himself could be controlled by that madman at any time to do even crazier things, like starting a world war!
Even so, Fudge was telling him not to worry, saying the Ministry of Magic was fully prepared.
If he could, the Prime Minister really wanted to go over and give him a good beating, a really good beating!
"I won't deny that morale is pretty low at the Ministry, and everyone is in panic, but fortunately, there is Dumbledore, and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named dares not show up publicly. So, the current situation is still under our control. The Aurors will handle everything, you don't need to worry," Fudge repeated the words that made the Prime Minister furious. "Scrimgeour thinks he might shift his target overseas, attacking there to collect corpses and souls..."
"Are you saying that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is planning to go to other countries?" the Prime Minister asked with a headache.
"He is very likely to do so because we are closely monitoring him, and he doesn't have many opportunities in this country!" Fudge continued, "It's different abroad, of course. This doesn't mean we can let our guard down. He might target important individuals for assassination, like losing Amelia Bones!"
"Losing Who?"
"Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. We think He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named may have murdered her in person, because she was a very gifted witch — and all the evidence was that she put up a real fight." Fudge cleared his throat. "This is a great loss for us, both her position and her personal efforts in the resistance..."
"Wait, I remember, that murder was in the newspapers," said the Prime Minister, momentarily diverted from his anger. "Our newspapers. Amelia Bones … it just said she was a middle-aged woman who lived alone. It was a — nasty killing, wasn’t it? It’s had rather a lot of publicity. The police are baffled, you see."
"Well, of course they are," Fudge sighed. "Killed in a room that was locked from the inside, wasn't she? We, on the other hand, know exactly who did it, not that that gets us any further toward catching him. And then there was Emmeline Vance, maybe you didn’t hear about that one —"
"Oh yes I did!" said the Prime Minister. "In fact, it happened just around the corner from here, the papers had a field day with it, ‘Breakdown of law in the Prime Minister's backyard —‘ "
"And as if all that wasn’t enough," said Fudge, barely listening to the Prime Minister. "Besides these murders, we’ve got Dementors all over the place, attacking people left, right, and center. ..."
Once upon a happier time, this sentence would have been unintelligible to the Prime Minister, but he was wiser now. He already knew many things; some things didn't need much explanation from Fudge, and the Prime Minister could understand them on his own!
"I thought Dementors guard the prisoners in Azkaban," he said cautiously. "That’s what you told me before.”
"They did," said Fudge wearily. "But not anymore. They’ve deserted the prison and joined He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I won’t pretend that wasn’t a blow."
"But..." the Prime Minister paused, with a sense of dawning horror, "didn't you tell me they’re the creatures that drain hope and happiness out of people?"
"That's right. And they're breeding. That’s what’s causing all this mist," Fudge looked out the window.
The Prime Minister sank, weak- kneed, into the nearest chair.
From the terrible news Fudge brought, the Prime Minister finally pieced together the dire situation.
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned. His followers and a group of terrifying Dark creatures, such as giants, were roaming the country, looking for opportunities to launch attacks. The Dark Lord needed human corpses and souls to cast evil Dark magic, and he also wanted to control the Prime Minister to start a World War, creating more slaughter.
Yet Fudge was telling him not to worry, that the situation was still under control.
But then he talked about those two bizarre murder cases.
The Prime Minister had initially thought that the deceased were ordinary people, but in fact, they were high-ranking wizards holding important positions in the so-called Ministry of Magic.
And the abnormal weather outside was caused by some creatures that fed on hope and happiness...
Hadn't Fudge said the situation was under control? What about these subsequent circumstances then?
The Prime Minister really wanted to ask him, “Don't your words contradict each other?”
But the idea of invisible creatures swooping through the towns and countryside, spreading despair and hopelessness in his voters, made him feel quite faint. He couldn't hold on any longer!
This was definitely the most terrifying news he had ever heard in his life, even if a war was about to break out it couldn't compare to this.
"Now see here, Fudge!" the Prime Minister said weakly, as if using the last ounce of his strength, "You’ve got to do something! Capture that wizard and resolve the current crisis! It's your responsibility as Minister of Magic!"
"My dear Prime Minister, you can’t honestly think I’m still Minister after all this? I was sacked two weeks ago! The whole Wizarding community has been screaming for my resignation for months. I’ve never known them so united in my whole term of office!" said Fudge, with a brave attempt at a smile.
The Prime Minister was momentarily lost of words. Despite his indignation at the position into which he had been placed, he still rather felt for the shrunken-looking man sitting opposite him. This was the fate of a failed politician. But such sympathy quickly vanished; now was not the time for such considerations.
"Alright!" The Prime Minister took a deep breath. "If there’s anything I can do?"
"There’s nothing at all. Ensuring your own safety is the biggest help you can offer us. Besides, I was sent here tonight to bring you up to date on recent events and to introduce you to my successor," said Fudge, putting away his handkerchief. "He wants to speak with you personally. I rather thought he’d be here by now, but, of course, he’s very busy at the moment, with so much going on. This meeting was supposed to take place a month ago, but we've been really occupied."
Fudge looked around at the portrait of the ugly little man wearing the long curly silver twig, who was digging in his ear with the point of a quill. Catching Fudge’s eye, the portrait said, “He’ll be here in a moment. He's currently meeting with Dumbledore at Hogwarts."
"I wish him luck," said Fudge, sounding bitter for the first time. "Dumbledore hasn't been willing to see me for the past few months. I’ve been writing to him thrice a day, but he won’t budge. If he’d just been prepared to persuade the boy, I might still be ... Well ... maybe Scrimgeour will have more success, taking the opportunity to talk to Dumbledore during the celebrations for the end of this year's O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s exams, and persuade him to change his mind."
